


Good

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clothed Sex, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom Steve Rogers, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Formalwear, Humiliation, Inflatable Dildo, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Previously negotiated kinks, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, large dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: On special days they all used to get a turn with Tony, now that’s just business as usual.But even business as usual can be pretty special when it involves a gala with a few too many secluded spots and a huge, inflatable dildo.





	Good

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this au on and off where Tony is a bit younger than he is in canon, in his twenties, when he's still spiralling after his parents' deaths and no one knows what to do with him. Everything else still happens the way he does in the fist Avengers movie, and the Avengers end up with one very volatile, very difficult member, who eventually finds some solace in having lots of kinky sex with Steve and later also with the rest of his teammates.
> 
> This story takes place pretty far into that au, when everyone is already very comfortable with the arrangement they have, where Steve and Tony are somewhat of a couple (although Tony is never going to admit that he has _feelings_ for Steve) and everyone else gets to show Tony some love, too.
> 
> Or, you know, it makes just as much sense with a canon compatible version of Tony, so it's 100% up to you!

Once they’re at the gala and Tony has thanked and greeted the people he’s supposed to thank and greet, he excuses himself to the bathroom and of course Steve, who isn’t even anywhere near him when he leaves, is quick to follow. He’s standing in the doorway when Tony starts to wash his hands. Tony grins at him and steps into his space once he’s dried is hands. He kisses Steve’s neck, murmurs close to his ear, ‘The whole bathroom can lock from the inside out. Isn’t that convenient?’

Steve turns his head away, and Tony takes that as an opportunity to kiss his Adam’s apple, which bobs up and down as Steve swallows. ‘I’m not going to fuck around in a bathroom stall, Tony. I know you’re still young enough to pull that off, but I’m not.’

‘Then where are we going to fuck?’, Tony asks, not backing off. He knows this is going to happen; they’ve done stuff like this before dozens of times. Steve just always has to be an ass about it first. Tony knows better, though. Steve asked him this morning if it would be okay to do a scene at the gala.

Steve doesn’t answer, but pulls him back by the back of his shirt collar and starts guiding him down the hallway, walking briskly, reading the plaques on each door until he finds one labelled ‘Conference Room C’. He opens the door, pulls Tony in with him, then suddenly slows down, becomes calm and gentle.

‘Stand up on the table,’ he says. ‘Take off your clothes, then fold them. I want you to dance while you take them off. I know there’s no pole, but I’m sure you can make it work anyway.’

And so Tony climbs up on the table, very much aware that the door to the hallway is still open. He knows Steve’s hearing is good enough that he’ll hear anyone coming from a mile away, so he’ll know to close the door before anyone catches them, but Tony still feels exposed, like Steve isn’t the only one who can see him.

He dances in a slow rhythm, swaying his hips in a way that feels exaggerated, but that he knows looks good. He keeps his eyes on Steve, but Steve doesn’t look up. He takes his phone out of his pocket and starts to scroll through it. It sends a thrill through Tony. Every time Steve’s head moves, every time it feels like he might look up, Tony’s heart skips a beat. He loosens his tie, takes off his shirt, kicks off his shoes, slides down his pants, all while dancing in a way that feels more embarrassing as he goes on. Steve still does not look up. Tony’s cock is rock hard.

With regret, he slides down his underwear, still thrillingly aware of the open door. He turns his back to Steve and bends over to pull off his socks, showing off the jewelled base of the small plug he’s wearing. He finishes his dance, and finally, Steve glances up, making Tony’s cock twitch. He gives Tony a curt nod and Tony climbs down from the table while Steve turns away to close and lock the door.

Tony feels nervous, wound so tight that he thinks he’s going to jump out of his skin as soon as Steve looks at him. He feels weirdly close to crying and tries to breathe slowly and deeply to calm down.

Steve turns to him and, without speaking, lifts Tony by his hips and sits him down on the table, paying no mind to the plug, which shifts as Tony’s ass lands on the table.

Steve puts a hand on his chest, over the arc reactor, and again, Tony’s cock twitches. Steve pushes him down hard, and doesn’t take his hand away when Tony ends up on his back, keeps a slight pressure on his chest that has Tony dizzy with arousal. His legs come up almost automatically, bent so that his ass is exposed. With his hands, he grabs the edge of the table.

Steve steps close to him, clothed crotch pressing against Tony’s bare ass. ‘What do you think I’m going to do to you?’, he asks, voice low.

‘Fuck me,’ Tony says, knowing it’s probably not the right answer, but hoping it could be.

Steve lifts his hand from Tony’s chest to slap him in the face. Tony has to try his hardest not to moan. ‘Guess again,’ Steve says.

Tony tries to think of the right answer, he really does. Considering the position he’s put him in, Steve probably isn’t planning on doing anything with Tony’s mouth. He still has his clothes on, which might mean that he isn’t planning on getting his dick wet at all. He doesn’t have any equipment with him, as far as Tony can tell, so no impact play. For spanking, Steve would have put Tony on his stomach. ‘Fuck me with a dildo?’, Tony tries. There’s a thrill to this, too, to knowing he’s wrong, knowing he’ll be punished.

Steve strokes his chest, smiling gently. ‘That’s right,’ he says. Then he lifts his hand and hits Tony anyway, then another time, before Tony even has time to brace himself. Tony does moan, now, can’t help the stupid little smile at the sting, the rush of warmth to his face. Steve always has to pull his punches, with how strong he is, but he still hits harder than anyone Tony has ever fucked around with before.

Steve steps back, casually checks his phone again, then takes a little bottle of lube and a small black plug and a small black dildo out of his pockets. For a moment, Tony is disappointed by their size, until he realises that one is attached to the other, that it’s not a plug at all but a pump with which to inflate the dildo. Steve is still distracted by his phone, steps back further for a moment and sends a text. When he finally puts his phone away, Tony is starting to shiver, although his skin is hot with the humiliation of lying there while Steve ignores him.

Steve steps towards him, gaze cold and scary. He pulls out Tony’s little bedazzled plug and holds it out to Tony, right in his face. ‘You wanna suck on this to keep quiet?’, Steve asks.

Tony knows what it means when Steve formulates his questions like that, that he’s giving Tony a choice. Tony doesn’t want to, so he shakes his head.

‘Then you’re going to have to stay quiet all on your own, okay?’ Steve says as he sets the little plug aside. ‘You’re going to have to stay quiet until I wanna hear you again.’

Tony nods. He knows that Steve will try his hardest to have Tony fail, but that’s part of the fun for both of them. He opens up his mouth and Steve slides in two fingers, gentle again. Tony sucks on them for as long as Steve lets him. When Steve pulls out, he wipes his fingers on Tony’s chest before reaching for the lube.

He starts out with three fingers, which is too much. It burns and Tony makes a face at the feeling, but Steve puts his free hand on Tony’s chest again, and that helps settle him. He gets used to the fingers pretty quickly. He’s been stretched further than this this morning, so really it’s fine. Steve is patient and adds a fourth finger well after Tony would have done so himself. He starts to spread his fingers, pulling Tony’s rim open in a way that makes Tony feel vulnerable, stretched thin. He tries to stay still, but can’t help little movements from his hips. Steve ads a fifth finger, which is a very tight fit. He pushes his fingers outwards again and Tony groans. He reaches up to cover his mouth with his hand, but Steve snatches his arm away and holds it against the table. He doesn’t look at Tony, doesn’t acknowledge that he fails to stay quiet. For now, he only has eyes for Tony’s ass. He spreads his fingers again, more insistently this time, and Tony only barely manages to stay quiet.

When he pulls out, it’s abrupt. ‘You made a sound,’ he says. He reaches up with the hand that was just inside Tony, coated in a thin layer of lube and holds it in front of Tony’s mouth. ‘You wanna?’, he asks.

Tony nods and opens his mouth for his punishment. Steve slides four fingers in, Tony’s lips stretching around them. They taste foul, like the lube and Tony’s ass. Steve pushes them deep, then sets up a brutal rhythm, deep and fast, the tips of his fingers against the back of Tony’s tongue, at the beginning of his throat. Tony tries his hardest to breathe through his nose, to stay unaffected. He looks at the ceiling, clenches his hands around the edge of the table, and breathes. Then he gags, whole body curling forward, which only pushes him further onto Steve’s fingers. Steve continues to finger his mouth. ‘When I tell you to be quiet, you don’t make a sound. You know that.’ Tony continues to gag, his cock leaking against his belly. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he’s still aware of Steve’s gaze on him, cold and relentlessly demanding. His throat hurts, feels too tight every time it spasms around all the four of Steve’s fingers. He’s growing dizzy and reaches up for Steve’s arm.

Steve immediately pulls out. When Tony opens his eyes, covering his mouth as he coughs, supporting himself to sit up with his other hand, Steve looks satisfied, almost proud. ‘That was so good,’ he says, trailing his spit-slick fingers over Tony’s chest, then wiping some on the side of his neck, some more on his abdomen, making Tony sticky with his own spit. ‘You took that so well. You’re so good.’ Lastly, he runs his fingers through Tony’s hair, leaving the last of the spit on his hand there. He runs a finger over the corners of Tony’s mouth, his chin, and wipes the spit that het gathers there on Tony’s hair, too.

Tony’s chest is still heaving, and his hands are shaking, but he lies back against the table, indicating to Steve that he’s ready to keep going.

Steve lubes up the inflatable dildo and pushes it into Tony almost casually. It’s not all that big. A little cold, a little strange, the way it’s slightly crumpled up in its deflated state.

Steve grabs one of Tony’s hands, unfolds his fingers and puts the pump in his palm. He puts his own hand around Tony’s and squeezes. The dildo inflates slightly inside Tony. It started out small, so Tony can easily take it. The inflation just feels kind of weird, surprising.

‘Again,’ Steve says, and Tony squeezes again. The dildo isn’t even as big as Steve’s cock, yet. ‘Keep going,’ Steve says. ‘Squeeze once every second until I tell you to stop.’

Tony does as he’s told. The first five squeezes are fine. They get the dildo to a decent size, but with the five fingers he just took from Steve, he still has room for more. Steve is watching him intently, rolling one of Tony’s nipples between his fingers, then pressing his nail into it. 

The next five squeezes feel great. He likes the feeling of being pushed open from the inside-out, the increasing pressure on his prostate. After that, things start to get more intense. Eleven and twelve, he starts to feel the stretch. Thirteen feels like his entire body is being filled. By sixteen, he is holding his breath, feels like he can’t move anymore. He’s starting to shake again, but then he squeezes a seventeenth time and Steve tells him he can stop.  
He drops the pump and his head thuds against the table as he lets it fall back, letting out a deep breath.

Steve’s hand immediately cups the back of his head, a quiet reprimand to be careful on his lips. Tony smiles, feeling both wired and heavy at the same time. He feels like if he had the suit on right now, he’d be doing somersaults, breaking speed records, talking to Jarvis a mile and hour, but at the same time, he feels like he won’t even be able to lift his hand if he tries, not even one finger.

Steve is massaging the back of his head. ‘You did so well,’ he says. ‘So good. How does it feel?’

‘Big,’ Tony says. ‘Like I should be all blown up with it, like you could see it in me just looking at me.’ He manages to lift one hand and put it on his abdomen, which still feels flat.

‘I can take it out now,’ Steve says, putting his hand over Tony’s and pressing down, which makes the dildo feel even more present inside of him. Just the thought of taking it out makes Tony panic. He doesn’t want to be empty again. ‘But then it has to come out fully inflated. Otherwise I’ll deflate it before I take it out, but then you do have to wear it for the rest of the gala.’

Tony nods. ‘That last one. Please, want to keep it in me.’

‘Are you sure? You’ll have to sit down a lot. And you’ll have to dance with a couple of people, at least.’

‘That’s okay. I can do it. Don’t want to take it out. Please.’

‘Of course.’ Steve smooths down his hair while his other hand leaves Tony’s abdomen. ‘You can always ask to take it out. We’ll come back here and I’ll help you take it out, okay?’ He looks at Tony intently until finally, Tony nods.

Tony twists when the dildo inflates again, the tell-tale sound of the pump in Steve’s hand. Moving turns out to be a bad idea. The dildo moves inside of him, so large that even that little twist makes his toes curl and his cock leak. Steve squeezes again and Tony whimpers, tilts his face to press against the hand Steve was stroking his hair with. Steve shushes him gently, runs his thumb over his cheek and cradles his face. The pumping seems to have stopped for now and Tony tries to catch his breath, tries to stop being too noisy, but every time he breathes out, he’s making a low whining sound.  
Then Steve pumps again, hand coming to cover Tony’s mouth in time to muffle to the sobbing scream Tony lets out. Tony twists again, which results in more sobbing and more twisting, his body trying to get away from the incredible pressure. He kicks out his legs, and then Steve, with the hand that isn’t covering his mouth, starts to stroke his cock. Tony comes almost immediately, like all he was waiting for was Steve’s touch. He continues to struggle against himself as his orgasm crests over him and subsides again, until finally, he manages to stay still, except for his foot twitching as it cramps up.

Steve is stroking his face and Tony opens his mouth to suck on his thumb, moaning quietly, while Steve’s other hand firmly massages the cramp out of Tony’s foot.  
Then Steve pulls away and puts both hands on Tony’s abdomen, where he smears open Tony’s come until it’s a sticky layer that won’t soak through his dress shirt. Steve wipes his hands clean in Tony’s hair again and Tony moans at the thought of spending the rest of the evening with his own come in his hair.  
Then Steve turns away from him, pocketing the bottle of lube, the pump from the dildo and the small plug Tony had in when they got here. ‘Get dressed,’ he tells Tony and he spends the full five minutes it takes for Tony to get dressed scrolling through his phone.  
Tony feels like he can barely move. Getting off the table is harder than he anticipated. He slides off gingerly, trying to move his hips and back as little as possible. His shirt and tie go on fine, but his pants aren’t as easy, and his socks are a straight up nightmare. He can’t keep quiet, his hands clumsy and clammy with sweat. He keeps moaning and whimpering, having to adjust himself when certain movements cause a sudden jolt of pain or crippling pleasure.

‘Baby, let me help you out,’ Steve says finally. Tony had lost track of him, so focused on his task, but now Steve is right in front of him, putting his hands on Tony’s shoulders to steady him. He kneels before Tony and helps him step into his shoes, then ties them. He gets up again and gives Tony a searching look, then tugs his hair this way and that, until it looks just like it did before he smeared spit and come into it. Tony feels sticky and gross under his clothes, and kind of wishes he could always feel that way.

Steve kisses his forehead, then takes his hand and walks him out the room, back to the gala. He slows his pace enough for Tony to keep up. 

When they get closer, he lets go of Tony’s hand, frowning. ‘You’re gonna behave for the rest of the gala, okay?’, he says sternly. ‘I know you’re a stupid little brat who gets drunk before dinner is even served, but now you get to pretend not to be. This team is going to make a good impression and you’re not going to jeopardize that, or so help me god,’ he hisses, voice growing quieter as they pass someone heading for the bathroom.

Tony puts on his own angry face. Let everyone think they’re so flustered because they’ve been fighting. The tension between Iron Man and Captain America is something the press noticed from the first Avengers press conference. They eat it up, when they’re mad at each other, when Steve gets stern with him and Tony is an ass about it.

Tony starts to go for the bar, but Steve tugs at his arm. Tony stumbles, chokes on air as the dildo shifts inside of him, feels like his entire body is being rearranged around him. Lust flashes across Steve’s face, but he schools his expression quickly, and so does Tony. 

‘Stop being such a fucking buzzkill,’ Tony hisses. ‘I can have one drink without fucking up the Avengers’ image.’

‘No you can’t,’ Steve hisses back. ‘We both know that.’

They quiet as they get to the table, where everyone else is already seated. Of course they’re seated next to each other, Tony with Natasha opposite him, Bruce to her one side and Clint to the other, opposite Steve. Thor is on Tony’s other side.

Tony glares at the table until Clint drags him into a discussion about arrow trajectories and how likely it is that Clint could shoot out a tire from of a helicopter. Once both Tony and Steve are looking a little calmer and Tony isn’t as sweaty anymore, Natasha asks, ‘So, did you do it?’

Tony realises with a jolt that she’s talking about the plug, that Steve discussed the details of the scene with them and left it a surprise for Tony.

Steve nods with a small, proud smile that Tony has to look away from because it’s making his stomach tingle in a very non-sexual way. 

Clint’s eyes are wide. ‘It’s in?’, he asks, then, quieter, ‘Fully inflated?’

Tony nods.

‘Holy shit,’ Clint says. ‘How the fuck are we supposed to get through this entire night knowing that?’

‘You can excuse yourself later,’ Steve says. ‘Before dessert, as long as you’re here when the speeches are being made. Anyone else?’

‘I can wait ‘till we’re home,’ Natasha says with an amused glance at Clint, who still hasn’t fully composed himself, looking from Tony to Steve to the hallway they just came from.

‘Me too,’ Bruce says. His voices is low, his pupils blown. His eyes don’t leave Tony for even a second.

‘I would like to,’ Thor says.

‘Okay, after desert, then. Tony still has to make it to the dance floor, though.’

‘Of course,’ Thor says. ‘I merely want to see for myself what he looks like right now.’ His gaze is so heated that Tony feels like squirming, but he stays still, feeling sweaty again from everyone’s attention, the thought of Thor and Clint taking him to some dark corner and doing whatever they’re thinking of doing right now, of Natasha and Bruce fantasising about it all night and pouncing on him as soon as they get home. His cock is hard again.

They change the subject and soon enough, the entrees are served. Each of Tony’s courses consists of soup, but no one comments on that. Steve must have requested it, because Tony hadn’t known beforehand that tonight was going to involve this much ass play.

‘Tony, look behind you,’ Clint says when they’ve already finished the third course. 

‘You could just tell me what’s behind me,’ Tony says. Just the thought of moving with the dildo still so unforgettably big inside of him has his insides squirming.

‘I think it’s better if you look,’ Clint insists, smiling.

‘You wanna look?’, Steve asks quietly.

Tony takes a second to think about it. It’s going to be intense, and it’s not going to be easy to stay quiet, but it’s also going to feel really, really good.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘Then look,’ Steve says gently.

Tony twists in his chair, slowly, gasping at the way he feels the dildo move. Moaning lowly when he turns back.  
Clint is grinning, eyes blown. Thor shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting himself.

‘How does it feel?’, Bruce asks.

‘Like it’s – like everything. Like I’m just a little thing stretched around it. Like I’m never going to be able to go back to normal.’

Again, they change the subject. Sorbet is served, then another three courses. The seventh course is dessert, which means Tony almost gets to excuse himself with Clint. But first there’s speeches, twenty minutes’ worth of speeches, Clint’s eyes on Tony the entire time, making Tony go hard and stay hard.

Once the last person is done making their speech, he gets up shakily, face flushed. He must look stupid drunk. It’s somehow another layer of humiliation that adds to the hotness of this whole game. He stumbles, turning his slack-jawed pleasure into what he hopes looks like a wince. He walks down the hallway, not really thinking about where he’s going. He doesn’t know how long it is before Clint catches up to him.

When he does, he tugs gently on Tony’s arm. ‘We’re doing this in the bathroom,’ he murmurs gently. And so Tony follows him towards the bathroom. ‘You’re really starting to go down, aren’t you?’, Clint says.

Tony isn’t sure. He doesn’t feel like talking, doesn’t feel like thinking about questions. He just wants to do what Clint says right now. But he still answers. ‘I’ve been drifting in and out of that headspace through dinner. The – the, when Steve asks me questions – this or that – that’s to bring me up.’

‘Oh. Should I bring you up first, before we do stuff?’

‘No, I wanna go down for a little. I’ll have time to get back up during dessert, before anyone notices.’

‘Okay,’ Clint says.

By now they’ve gotten to the bathroom. All the stalls are empty. ‘Get in the middle stall,’ Clint says. ‘Get on your knees.’

Clint stays behind while Tony does as he’s told. It takes a lot of effort and he moans and whimpers as he does it, but eventually he’s on his knees. It pushes the dildo against his prostate in a constant kind of way, that’s intense and takes him out of his mind, makes it hard to focus.

Something clicks and then he hears Clint behind him. He steps around him, pulls the stall shut and locks it. He stands in front of Tony, who is facing the toilet, toes sticking out from under the door. Clint kind of has to spread his legs so the toilet bowl doesn’t get in the way, but then he’s positioned and unclasps his belt. Tony lets his mouth fall open, sticking out his tongue while Clint takes out his hard cock. ‘Stay still,’ Clint says. ‘Squeeze my thigh if you need me to stop.’

Tony nods. Clint doesn’t do anything yet. He grabs Tony’s hair, tugs his head back, then spits in his face. ‘How deep are you?’, he asks.

‘Deep,’ Tony manages, barely closing his mouth for it, the words slurred and sloppy. ‘Could go deeper.’ Clint roughly wipes his face, smearing out the spit. Then he slaps Tony. ‘Tell me when you’re as deep as you wanna be,’ he says. He slaps Tony again. He’s still holding on to his hair, so when Tony’s head snaps to the side, it hurts. Clint slaps him again. Tony closes his mouth, but a thumb pushes in and tugs the corner of his mouth to the side. ‘Keep your mouth open, tongue out,’ Clint says, voice low and threatening.

Tony does as he’s told. Clint slaps him again and again while Tony sinks deeper and deeper, until he’s so deep everything has stopped existing. There’s just Clint and Tony’s stinging cheeks and the huge thing in his ass. ‘’m deep,’ he mumbles, not sure if that’s the right thing to say, but confident Clint will know what he means.

Clint lets go of his hair. ‘Okay. You’re still gonna squeeze my thigh if it’s too much, right?’

Tony nods. Then Clint cups the back of Tony’s head with both his hands and guides his cock into Tony’s waiting mouth.

Tony keeps still, keeps his mouth relaxed, although he closes his lips around Clint. Clint starts out deep, sliding Tony down until his nose is pressed against Clint’s skin, then fucking shallowly, so Tony can barely even breathe. Tony stays focused, keeps his throat relaxed while Clint fucks him, around the weight on his tongue and the heavy stretch of his throat. 

It hurts, especially after Steve’s fingers were so rough right there, but Tony likes it. He moans loudly around Clint.  
‘God,’ Clint says. ‘You’re a slut with no shame, aren’t you. Anyone could walk in and hear you, but you keep making noise.’

And that’s right, they’re in a bathroom open to everyone in the hotel. And he’s here moaning, his mouth making wet, obscene noises around Clint’s thrusting cock. He moans again, louder, and spit runs down his chin.

‘Slut,’ Clint says, thrusting hard. ‘Noisy slut.’

He fucks Tony’s mouth more shallowly, letting Tony breathe, and the noises get louder, wet pops and gargling noises, layered with his constant panting moans.

Clint slides deeper again, and Tony can tell he’s close. ‘Everyone hearing you,’ he pants. ‘Knowing what a good slut you are, how well you can take it. They’d all want a piece of you, Tony. Would you want that? People lining up for your mouth, for you loose ass,’ he continues. He nudges his foot against Tony, right against the base of the plug and Tony chokes around him as cries out, garbled around Clint’s cock. Clint holds him down on his cock by the back of his head, almost doubling over. He slaps the back of Tony’s head, once, twice, three times, while Tony gags around him again, then gets himself under control. There’s something so perfect about that moment, the heavy weight of Clint in his mouth, his hands on Tony’s head, his abdomen pressing against Tony’s forehead, so surrounded, so out of control, Clint spilling down his throat where Tony barely even tastes it before he swallows. 

Clint is gentle as he pulls him off, wipes Tony’s mouth with toilet paper, sits with him as Tony catches his breath.

‘You did so great,’ he says, stroking Tony’s cheek. ‘Come on, let’s get your face washed up.’ He helps Tony up, out of the toilet stall, wipes his face with wet and then then dry paper towels at the sink, helps fix his hair. Tony doesn’t look like as much of a mess as he feels. His lips are kind of swollen and he’s flushed bright red, but with his hair fixed and only some drool left in his collar, where it will dry soon enough, he looks like he’s had one too many drinks, not like someone fucked his face and someone else stuck a dildo the size of someone’s forearm up his ass.

‘I’m gonna text Steve that you’re down deep, okay?’, Clint says, then proceeds to text Steve while Tony leans against his side.

‘I’m okay,’ Tony mumbles. ‘I’ll be up in a second.’

‘We’ll help you,’ Clint says.

‘Not necessary,’ Tony says, trying to push through the fog in his mind. ‘Can do it.’

‘You okay? You don’t need me to take the dildo out?’

‘No. I’ll kick your ass if you take it out,’ Tony slurs. He can’t quiet muss up the effort to focus on Clint, but he’s pretty sure Clint smiles at that.

‘Okay, come on, let’s go,’ Clint says, and presses a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. He unlocks the door to the hallway and leads Tony back to the table. Tony hopes he’s doing a good impression of a person who’s drunk and kind of needs support from their friend but is also kind of trying to not seem drunk and walk on their own. 

He’s not paying enough attention to know if he succeeds. He’s looking at Steve, who’s turned away from them with the way he’s seated. Tony counts to three, thinks he’ll look up on three, counts to three again, heartbeat growing louder in his ears. For a moment, all he wants is for Steve to look up. He counts to three again.

Then Steve does look up and everything kind of settles. Everything feels right.

‘Hey,’ Tony says as he carefully lowers himself onto his chair. His ass is really sore by now, but that’s good, it feels good.

Steve smiles at him and puts a hand on his shoulders, studying him. ‘Do you want me to get you more sorbet for desert or don’t you want dessert?’

‘More sorbet,’ Tony says. He feels proud that he can so easily answer Steve’s question.

‘Okay,’ Steve says, ‘Good.’

‘But not yet,’ Tony says, and he feels even prouder when Steve’s eyebrows rise. Steve is surprised that Tony is so lucid, that Tony makes requests of his own and everything. ‘I want to tell you about what Clint did.’

‘Yeah?’

‘He fucked my face,’ he mumbles, leaning close to Steve’s ear. The others all have hearing good enough to pick up what he’s saying, even Bruce. ‘In the bathroom. Couldn’t keep quiet.’

‘Did you take him well? Were you good?’

‘Yeah. Until he nudged the dildo. I couldn’t control my gag reflex after that.’

He knows Steve finds that even hotter. He reaches for Tony’s collar, that part that is still wet with spit. ‘Did he get you messy?’

‘Yeah. So messy. Should have seen me.’

Then, just as suddenly as he had Steve’s attention, Steve turns away from him, like he’s lost interest, and asks Natasha about a mutual friend she’s talked to not long ago. Steve ignores him until Tony has finished his sorbet and the others have eaten their weird ice cream and cake concoction. Then he turns to Tony and says, ‘Go with Thor to the bathroom, okay?’

Tony nods and slowly gets up. Thor stands, as well, and leads Tony back to the hallway. He walks too fast for Tony to keep up with, and Tony stumbles, letting out a quiet groan at the all-encompassing feeling of the dildo shifting inside of him. Thor wordlessly lifts him over his shoulder, which forces the dildo into a completely different angle and Tony whimpers, hard again.

Thor walks him further down the hallway, until they get to a glass door. Thor opens it gently, then closes it again. They step into the cool evening air, surrounded by darkness and quiet. ‘The pool is closed,’ he says. ‘No one is allowed here at this hour.’

And indeed, when Thor carefully lays Tony out on a beach chair, they’re by a pool. It’s not lit, and neither is the area around it. Tony only has the moonlight to see by, but that’s enough.

Thor sits on the edge of the beach chair beside Tony’s and starts to undress him and carefully folds each item of clothing so that it does not wrinkle, setting them down on his own beach chair.

‘Turn over,’ he says. Tony does. ‘Ass up.’ Tony scoots on the chair until his ass is pushed up, his shoulders still pressed against plastic chair.

Thor tugs at the base of the dildo and for a moment, Tony thinks that’s it, just one little tug, but then he keeps on pulling and the dildo slides out half an inch. Tony lets out a panicked whimper, but Thor pushes the dildo back in, the pressure somehow more overwhelming than when it was in that same position twenty seconds before. Tony doesn’t make a sound, just a quiet _oof_ as his breath is punched out of him. Thor pulls the dildo out again, a little further, pushes it back in hard. Tony keeps quiet, feeling so full, so overwhelmed. Thor does it again and again, fucking the dildo in and out of him until Tony feels like he is going to cry just from the sheer intensity of the feeling.

Then Thor pulls the dildo out completely and Tony feels emptier than he ever has before. ‘No!’, he gasps, rocking back against nothing, heart speeding up with panic. Then there’s pressure at his entrance, pressure everywhere, the dildo sliding back in in one smooth, relentless movement, punching the breath out of him. 

Thor does it again, pulls the dildo out completely and fits it back inside, where it belongs, where it pushes all of Tony to the side to make room. Tony is speaking now, begging, mumbling pleas, he doesn’t know for what. Thor keeps fucking him with the dildo, until finally, he stops and leaves it inside.

‘Sit,’ he tells Tony, and he guides Tony to sit on the edge of the beach chair. Thor himself stands in front of Tony and strokes his own cock, coming after only a dozen strokes. He spurts over Tony’s face and chest and abdomen. Being the god of fertility has plenty of sexual perks, and one of them is the sheer amount of come Thor can produce.

He carefully gathers the come on Tony’s face for Tony to lick from his fingers, then smears open the come splattered across his chest and stomach. Tony is all sticky with it, and once Thor has smeared it open and it is starting to dry, he lets Tony lick his hand clean. Then he dresses Tony again, adjusting his hard cock so that it isn’t too prominently visible, and takes him back inside.

When they sit at the table, everyone is looking at Tony. ‘Let’s dance,’ Natasha says. In Tony and Thor’s absence, a couple of couples have already moved to the dance floor, and now they are moving to the music of the live band, smiling and whispering in each other’s ear.

Natasha holds her hand out to Tony, who gets up once again, this time with Steve’s help. She takes the lead as they dance, and makes him stumble more than once, letting him muffle his moans against her shoulder. His cock is still hard, and she ignores it, then hands him over to a very nervous and very charming woman, the head of a new tech company he’s heard off a few times over the last year or so. Her conversation is interesting and distracting enough for a while, but then the song ends and his next dance partner is a woman he knows form these kinds of functions, a realtor who’s observant and blunt and apparently, not interested in a slow dance. She leads him in a much quicker waltz, and ignores how sweaty he gets as he stumbles every few steps, feeling like he’s impaled on something much bigger than the dildo. After her there’s Maya, who makes fun of him for being kind of drunk and catches him up on all of Killian’s weird bullshit.

Steve finally takes mercy on him once the next song ends and leads him around the room to say goodbye to all the other attendees. After that they finally get to leave, all piled in the back of one of Happy’s cars.

‘Holy shit, Tony,’ Clint says, at the same time that Steve pulls him against his side and tells him how well he did.

Tony is exhausted, but smiles as all the others butt in, too, telling him he’s perfect and wonderful and amazing. He lets them feel him up, circle the base of the dildo and squeeze his hard cock, knowing that there’s more fun waiting for him once they get home. 

‘What are you going to do to me?’, he asks, voice breathy.

‘Fuck you,’ Bruce says. ‘While you eat out Natasha. Then we’re going to switch.’

Tony moans, knowing how much that turns them on, and spends the rest of the drive massaging his own cock through his pants.

Once they enter the communal level of the Tower, Steve leads Tony to the kitchen, where he makes him drink half a glass of water. Then he turns to Natasha, who’s leaning against the counter. ‘Where do you want him?’, he asks.

‘Couch,’ she says. And so Tony follows her to the couch. Only Bruce and her are still left in the living room. The others are somewhere else, going about their business. Tony kind of wishes they’d come and watch, but he likes this, too, thinks maybe it’s even more intense with just the two of them focused completely on him, no distractions.

‘Keep your clothes on,’ Bruce says when he starts on the first button of his shirt. ‘You can take off the jacket if you’d like, but we’re finally going to mess up the rest.’

Tony nods and drapes his jacket over the back of the armchair they probably won’t use. ‘Where do you want me?’, he asks.

‘Kneeling on the carpet,’ Natasha says.

He kneels on the carpet. ‘Ass against your heels,’ she adds. He does as instructed. ‘Now lean back, put jour hands flat on the carpet behind you. Push up your chest. Further back. Further. Ah. Look down.’ He can feel it without even having to look, the dildo pressing against him, a defined bump under his shirt.

‘Fuck,’ Bruce breathes. He comes to stand in front of Tony, sinking down on one knee, and almost casually rips open his shirt, the buttons flying every which way. His stomach is bulged in the middle, the dildo pushing against it from the inside. Bruce touches the bulge and Tony shudders.

‘Stand,’ Natasha says. Both Bruce and Tony stand. Natasha comes up behind Tony, pressing close against his back. She slides down his pants enough to expose his ass. He feels her fingers by the base of the plug and tugs at it until it slowly starts to slide out. He wants to spread his legs, but he can’t move, feels like Natasha is taking out so much, leaving nothing but emptiness inside of him. 

He whimpers.

‘You’re so good, Tony,’ she mumbles. She pulls his pants back up and buckles his belt. ‘You’re being so strong. Lie down on the couch, Bruce is going to fuck you now.’

He lies down on his belly. He hears the sound of a belt and a zipper, then feels Bruce’s hands clench in the fabric of his pants. He tears them open over his ass and Tony gasps when Bruce pushes into him only seconds later, straddling Tony’s legs. He sets a slow, deep rhythm. He’s not nearly as big as the dildo, but that somehow makes it worse, more intense, because now Tony can feel how loose he really is. Bruce tugs at his shirt until it slides off his shoulders, then loops it around his hands until his wrists are held immobile behind his back.

Natasha sits on the edge of the couch before him, her dress hiked up. He stretches his neck to lick at her, then sucks, drags his teeth in the way he knows she likes. She guides his head where she wants it to go and Bruce pushes two fingers in beside his cock. Tony moans against Natasha.

Then Bruce pulls out and Natasha helps him manoeuvre Tony until he’s kneeling on the floor. Bruce sits on the couch and Tony, face already wet with Natasha’s juices, gets to work on Bruce’s cock, sucking it enthusiastically, bobbing his head and making happy humming noises. Bruce’s hand comes to rest on the back of Tony’s head, letting him move freely, but not allowing him to pull all the way up.

Then he feels Natasha’s fingers at his entrance, coated in cold lube. He can’t tell how many there are until suddenly, he realises that what’s pressing against his entrance, stretching him wide, has to be her knuckles. Then they pop past his rim and her whole hand is inside of him. He cries out around Bruce’s cock, whole body convulsing as his orgasm crashes through him. She’s massaging his prostate, milks every little drop of come out of him, then goes on a little longer, until he starts to whimper. She pulls out, leaving him empty and kneeling on the carpet as she joins Bruce on the couch. They get each other off quickly, ignoring Tony, but murmuring to each other about how hot he is, how slutty and used, and about how they should leave his ass gaping and ready all the time, until finally, they’re both spent and they pull him up on the couch with them to tell him how well he did.

He grins, getting kisses from both of them before he goes looking for Steve, who’s reading in his bedroom. His eyes grow dark with lust when he sees the state Tony’s in, hands bound by his shirt, pants torn to expose his puffy ass, hair a mess and face slick with who knows what. He gets up, pulls Tony towards him by the back of his neck and kisses him hard, only stopping to tell him how good he is, how perfect.

They stay like that for a long time, Tony kissing back eagerly but helplessly, hands held behind his back, Steve pulling him close, rubbing his rim with two fingers like it’s a pussy, before Steve finally unties him, undresses him and runs him a bath.


End file.
